I Bet It Stings
by crazy homo in space
Summary: I'd like to hear this story from the beginning. KuronueKurama. Eventual HieiKurama.
1. Push Rewind

Time heals all wounds. The oldest lie in existence, told only to offer peace to victims of tragedy. It rarely brought relief from the anguish, giving the same promise as procrastination. Later. It will feel better later. Salvation will come.

Whoever thought of that saying had never experienced loss. The years were impossible to count. They bled together, a stream of lifeblood diluting in the river of his lifespan. As Kurama stood at his open window, feeling the morning breeze pass lightly through his damp red hair, he realized that the pain never subsided. His heart would never be washed with relief. He'd merely learned to cope, growing strong with the weight of his broken love.

Green eyes closed as slender arms wrapped around his waist and warm lips found his throat. He sighed in comfort, stretching his neck to bare more skin.

"I'm surprised that you are awake. Did I wake you?" His voice was raw.

"No." A lie. "You aren't in school anymore. Come to bed." Hiei's voice, thick with the early hour, was disapproving.

Kurama's eyes shut, a smile on his face as he felt a bandaged hand slip lightly up his loose, long-sleeved sleep shirt. A delicate hand reached down, covering it through the fabric. "You won't be long without me."

The hand in on his stomach clenched lightly. "It's about him again, isn't it."

"It isn't fair to use your Jagan against me."

"I didn't need to. It's all over your face and energy." There was a moment of silence as Kurama breathed, slow and deep. "Do you need to talk about him?"

Hiei could easily rip essential information from Kurama's mind, but it would hold no meaning. Besides, Kurama had been holding his past in his heart for far too long. Hiei knew the anguish well, and wished it on nobody. He felt Kurama sink in his grasp.

"I may not have the strength." The confession was airy. He was shocked by the sudden smack against his belly.

"Stop that. You are strong enough." Hiei's lack of doubt gave Kurama confidence, and he nodded slowly. Hiei sat comfortably on the bed, and brought his hand to Kurama's head as his partner laid his head in his lap.

"Will you still love me after seeing my scars?" Kurama asked, hand resting on Hiei's thigh. Hiei had to smirk.

"Shut up. I've already seen them. You're just telling me how they got there." His fingers threaded through blood red hair. "Do you remember all of it? From the beginning?"

A smile. "As clear as the day I met you."

* * *

Silver foxes were rare. Demand grossly outweighed supply. They were considered to be no more than pets, symbols of status to be envied. They were shining examples of purity, with virgins selling for more than the common man's lifetime net worth.

By the final time he found himself on the auction block, Youko Kurama had seen his fair share of owners. He'd been passed from hand to hand since childhood, when his mother, sick and broken from poverty, handed her youngest son to a slave dealer. He'd grown up in the homes of strange men, toying with him however they saw fit, until they became bored with him. Though, vain as it sounded, he truly did not understand how someone tired of him. He was willowy and long-limbed. His hair was soft and touchable, refracting any light it could and glimmering in the darkness. His eyes were sharp, matching 24-carat gold in hue and luminosity. He was beauty, grace incarnate.

But damn his mouth.

Kurama had been cursed with an intellect to match his beauty. His teeth were sharp, literally and figuratively. He manipulated his owners with sharp claws, sometimes for years before they caught onto his game and sent him away.

By the time he'd reached adolescence, he found himself to be the treasure of a crime lord. Yuudai was a stern man, a truly charismatic leader with bright eyes and the sexual prowess of a dead fish. But, much to Kurama's pleasure, he kept a loose grip on his leash. Kurama was no longer restricted to his master's chambers. He was allowed to prowl the compound, even care for a garden of his own. He'd taken a talent to it, after all, feeding his energy into demon plants and seeing how he could manipulate them.  
There were few rules that Kurama was expected to abide by. If he ran, he was dead. Yuudai wasn't concerned with losing money. His ego was bigger than concern for his wallet, which, considering his profession, felt questionable. Secondly, he was not allowed to lie in bed with another. He was not to be touched. Anybody who touched Kurama would have hell to pay, and likely would not live to brag about putting their hands on the boss' treasure.

When he was not tending to his garden, Kurama was plotting. Unlike his other masters, Yuudai embraced the fox's intellect. He was given indirect strategical training from some of the other men. After all, there were close to one hundred other men and women in the compound. He was bound to catch conversations, though he didn't make a habit of joining them. The loud parties, the brawls.. they didn't interest him. He was happy with the company of his roses. They rose to meet him, blossoms opening at the stroke of a warm finger. He had no need to socialize with the hordes of buffoons who had sought employment under Yuudai.

* * *

Being second-in-command of a crime circle was hardly as exciting as it had been made out to be. It was hard to keep legitimate friends. Everyone talked to you because you were good with the boss. Every conversation started with 'Hey, can I ask you something real quick?' It was never 'real quick.' There were days where Kuronue honestly wished that he could step down without being killed.

But, then again, he honestly liked fucking with people.

Kuronue exuded power. Nobody fucked with him. They were too busy being intimidated by his narrow, glaring, purple eyes and the upturned sneer he wore. His steps were heavy, wings held high. He'd earned the right to strut, unlike the inexperienced whelps who made a habit of padding their pants with tissues. His hair was long with age, luxuriously thick and voluminous, more reminiscent of horsehair than that of a person.

Weekends were reserved for socialization. To a testosterone-fueled, male-dominated pack of demons, that meant drinking, fighting, and sex. The bat demon sneered as he entered the main den, the scent of blood mixed with that of moonshine. The air was unbreathable, thick with smoke from tobacco, as well as a much more entertaining plant. Though he was used to it, the first breath never failed to make him cough. He traveled with wings partially unfolded, forcing people to give him space to pass. He caught sight of his only friend, who happened to be clutching a suspicious cigarette.

"Satoshi," he greeted, smirking as his buddy looked up at him, mid-drag. Without warning, Kuronue snatched the lit cigarette out of his hand, and placed it between his lips. He coughed with the weight of the smoke.

"Shoulda warned me," he coughed, holding what had been identified as a joint high above his friend's reach.

"You didn't give me time! Don't be a dick, Kuronue," Satoshi drawled. Only he could call the bat demon a dick and get away with it. Kuronue took another long, deep hit before passing the joint back to its original owner. He sat down next to his friend, throwing his feet up on a coffee table, which, miraculously, hadn't been broken. His eyes closed as he reveled in his high.

"Anythin' new?" It was a standard question. Satoshi remembered people. He remembered good as well as bad. It was a habit of theirs, gossiping over wine.. or, in this case, something stronger. Kuronue saw the fire demon's hand cover his face in thought.

"Uhh.. Oh! Yuudai's pet is out for a walk." Kuronue raised an eyebrow.

"Is he really? Where?" The silver fox was very good at not being seen unless he wanted to. It had been four months since the pup came to live at the compound, and the only glances Kuronue had managed to sneak were during Kurama's slumber. That was his name, right? Kurama?

Satoshi pointed off into the distance, in the direction of a large, circular couch in the very corner of the room. Kuronue peeked over discreetly, not wanting Yuudai to catch him staring at his toy. He caught sight of silvery hair and a mostly-empty glass of wine in a delicate hand. And, best of all, Yuudai was nowhere in the vicinity. He stole the joint from a very complacent Satoshi, and took a hit before handing it back.

"What're you doin'?" Satoshi asked, but didn't even bother looking up.

"Just a little experiment. Don't worry about it."

"Don't get your ass kicked."

" What do you take me for, Toshi?" he asked with a smirk. Satoshi's grin gave him away.

Kuronue stalked over to the couch, where Youko Kurama, in all of his glory, laid out among a group of his friends. His lips were stained from the expensive red wine he drank. His pale cheeks were tinted an agreeable red. No wonder Yuudai had dropped so much damn money. Kitsunes in general were gorgeous, but this one was a knockout. His head was in the lap of who Kuronue had recognized to be their sniper, a demon named Kyo. His feet were bare, some female badger demon's hand holding them steady.

"Can we help you?" An airy voice knocked Kuronue out of the five-second delay caused by his high. Oh, those wine-stained lips were moving.

"Just thought I'd come see what the fuss was about. You're a popular little boy, huh, Kisuke?" Kuronue smirked as those oversized silver ears flattened against their owner's head. Call Kuronue a dick, but he loved seeing just how far he could push his underlings. Not that Kurama was technically his underling. That pretty boy answered only to Yuudai.

"Excuse me?" Even through the veil of alcohol, Kurama's voice was liquid sex, dripping with venom. Kuronue reached down, taking the long-stemmed wine gas out of the fox's claw, and located the bottle of wine. He pulled the cork and took a swig, right before filling the glass. As it was handed back, Kurama gave a bemused, sour look.

"It's tainted." He swirled the liquid slowly, bringing it to his nose. "It stinks of bat," he complained, though gold eyes never left purple.

Kuronue smirked, bringing the glass to his lips. "Oh? Then don't mind if I indulge," he purred.

If Youko Kurama was one thing, it was possessive. Right as Kuronue went to sip at the wine- his wine- he snatched the glass and downed its contents in two large gulps. Kuronue's thin brows rose in mild amazement. For such a young little thing, the fox knew how to handle his alcohol.

"Why don't you return to whatever Hellpit you spawned from?" Kurama asked, returning to his spot on the couch. His companions parted to allow him access, his feet rested casually on one of his friend's laps, and he crossed his arm. Kuronue was unmoving.

"I think you have me all wrong, puppy." A warning growl left Kurama's lips. "I'm Yuudai's second. Kuronue." He held out his hand.

Kurama stared at the outstretched hand, expression utterly bored. He leaned over, taking the bottle of wine and shaking it before deciding that it wasn't worth pouring another glass. He drank straight from the bottle, eyes closing in contentment. "I hardly concern myself with mannerless thieves," he scoffed.

Kuronue chuckled. "Fine, then. Be like that. See you 'round, whelp."

He turned quickly on his heels, locking onto Satoshi in the distance. As he took a step, he felt the air by his ear displace. His eyes narrowed as he looked down, a rose stuck in the makeshift wood floor of the warehouse. He looked back to see Kurama sitting up in his friend's lap, hair framing his face and eyes dangerously narrow.

"My name is Kurama."

* * *

He followed the demon ahead of him, whose wings quivered with excitement. Kuronue knew the demon well- the hummingbird had been around for a while. Yuudai liked him, and used him as a personal messenger.

"Did he tell you what he wanted?" Kuronue asked boredly, rubbing his eyes as light filtered through the curtained windows. Was it light already? Damn Daisuke for waking him any time before sunset.

"He just told me that he wanted to see you," Daisuke shrugged, shaking iridescent purple-green bangs out of pale blue eyes.

Kuronue's eyes rolled in irritation. Yuudai's timetables were his own. He didn't care that, once sunlight hit, Kuronue was useless. 'Blind as a bat' was more than a cliche. After all, cliches became so for a reason.

Daisuke threw the double doors open. Yuudai stood by the bed, his pet perched neatly in the center of the mattress. Kuronue sneered. Him again? Really?

"What do you want, Yuudai?" Kuronue asked, flipping his hair off of his shoulder. "You know how I get when it's past my bedtime."

Yuudai smirked, reaching a clawed hand out to stroke Kuronue's cheek. The bat recoiled slightly, showing his displeasure in his face. Yuudai motioned to Kurama, adding a wink of a thickly-lined brown eye.

"Train him."

Kuronue smirked. "What, can't control your pet?"

Smack. Kuronue rubbed his abused cheek, though didn't fight back. He'd deserved it. Though, he should consider himself lucky. Most insolent jerks got their fingernails ripped off.

"He'd be a powerful asset. Feel his energy," Yuudai instructed. Kuronue closed his eyes and isolated Kurama's spiritual pressure. His presence was intoxicating, rose-scented and gentle, but holding an unmistakable coldness behind it. With proper training, the kit would be a force to reckon with. Kuronue's eyes opened, and he locked his gaze on Kurama.

"And if I refuse?"

"I give his training to Yomi, and, as punishment for your incompetence, Yomi will take over your rank."

Kuronue groaned. Nobody liked Yomi. Nobody but Yuudai. He was the lowest form of demon, merely a power-hungry child.

"Fine. I'll do it." Slowly, he approached Kurama, whose spiritual energy surged as he grew closer. It was akin to a warning growl. "Don't worry, baby. I'll take good care of you." As the bat reached out to stroke Kurama's cheek, he was greeted by the feeling of sharp fangs in his finger. He recoiled with a snarl, and stuck the wounded digit into his mouth.

Kurama licked the blood off of his fangs, eyes never leaving Kuronue's.

"We'll see."


	2. Something's Burning

Author note: There is some light drug use in this chapter.

* * *

The setting of the sun brought the rise of Kuronue. He was married to his bed, lying comfortably on the mattress, limbs and wings outstretched lazily. It was rare that the men and women he brought to his bed stayed through the night- there was no room for them. He let out a deep sigh as the sunlight faded, detectable even behind closed eyelids. It was time. The compound was abuzz with activity, nervous demon energy crackling in the air. One purple eye opened.

In a matter of seconds, Kuronue was in the air, ready for attack. His pupils widened, his pores opened, and he felt his energy rise- and fall quickly with realization.

"Stupid motherfucker," he spat, lowering himself to stand on the bed, no more than a mattress on the floor. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Kurama smirked. "Not at all. I figured your lazy ass would still be asleep. I came to wake you." He tossed his hair behind his shoulder. Kurama was worlds more ready than his so-called teacher. He'd dressed himself in clothing surely borrowed from one of the other thieves.

"Where did you learn to hide your spiritual energy?" Kuronue flipped his head down to gather his hair into a high ponytail, tying it quickly with an old, ragged ribbon.

"I'm very talented. Though, live under the rule of aggressive demons, and you'll learn how to not be seen, too." Kurama smirked. "Do not treat me as you would a child. I'm far beyond those days."

Kuronue stepped down gingerly from the mattress, saying nothing as he fondled a lock of Kurama's hair. The fox's ears pressed against his skull, but the bat ignored the gesture. He stroked the hair, rolled it between his fingers, examined how the strands refracted light.

"You're beautiful," Kuronue admitted, finally releasing the lock of hair. "But you'll be seen."

Kurama brought his hand to his head, as if offended that Kuronue would dare insult him. Nobody insulted his hair. They praised its beauty, cut it to sell or use for trinkets.. but this bat was calling it a flaw.

"You're wrong." Kurama's voice was slow and smooth. "I will not cost the mission. And, in the off chance that I am seen?" His head cocked just slightly, gaze never leaving Kuronue's. "Nobody will live to describe me."

Kuronue shivered with the influx of energy, wings quaking. What had the fox been up to before he fell into Yuudai's grasp?

"Big promises for such a pretty little thing," Kuronue cooed, sitting to pull on his boots. "We'll just need to take you out to stretch your wings, won't we?" he asked, fluttering his own.

"I look forward to it." Kurama smirked, tugging on Kuronue's ponytail before slipping out the door, tail wagging in anticipation.

Kuronue took in a deep breath. Welp. Looked like it was showtime.

* * *

There was no 'easing into' heists in Yuudai's band. It was sink or swim for everyone, though less experienced bandits normally had weights tied to their ankles. It was rare that the new kids stuck around too long- their mentors had more to worry about than making sure they stayed in one piece. That didn't mean that they didn't observe, however. If they survived, and that was a pretty big 'if,' only then would they receive hints on how to improve.

A part of him secretly hoped that the fox would fall in battle. Kuronue was self-serving and lazy, and he hated having to hold hands. But, he reminded himself, if Kurama died, that perfect backside would perish with him. Sigh.. perhaps he could spare a glance behind his shoulder every now and then. There were several dozen men and women in Yuudai's gang, but there were very select few as attractive as that little silver fox. It would be a pity to lose him so quickly.

"Shit! Get me Satoshi!" Kuronue roared, forced to a stop in front of a door, the lock encrypted in a way that the bat had never seen. They hadn't anticipated this.

"He's not here, boss!" Kuronue recognized the voice to be that of the sniper, Kyo. Shit. Shit. Satoshi was the best codebreaker they had. Without him, they wouldn't have a snowball's chance in Hell. He opened his mouth to issue the retreat order, but was cut off by the feeling of cool fingers on his wings.

"Giving up already? Stand aside."

Kuronue sneered as that goddamn fox sauntered to the front of the crowd, his tail held high in what Kuronue interpreted as excitement.

"And what the fuck are you going to do? Sass the door open? That's not how it-"

"Silence." Kurama cut him off with a hiss. Kuronue's wings folded, fury carved into his facial features. He could have ended the insolent fox right then.

But he didn't.

Curiosity took over as Kurama trained a large white ear on the door, delicate fingers slowly working the lock. He played it as he would an instrument, one he had spent years learning and perfecting.

The lock creaked, and the door swung open. Kurama spared Kuronue a smug glance.

"Hm. Looks like sassing the door open worked."

Kurama took a step through the door, but yelped in indignant surprise as he was lifted by his tail, and tossed a few feet into the room they had just gained access to. He stood quickly, fury in his eyes as he bared his teeth, ready to tear into whoever just launched him with such insolence.

It was Kuronue's turn to smirk. "Didn't think you'd like getting caught in that trap." He pointed to the floor, where a barely visible trip wire lay. It appeared to trigger the release of arrows from several different directions. Fairly likely to ruin the fox's day, right?

He still didn't look very thankful.

* * *

That night, it was Kurama's turn to come to Kuronue. It was hard to miss him. A cloud of smoke surrounded him, visible from the doorway. The bat was settled with his best friend, basically glued to the old, ratty couch.

Unexpectedly, as soon as Kurama approached, Kuronue urged for Satoshi to leave. He hadn't even had to open his mouth.

Hm. He'd trained him well.

"You weren't bad out there," Kuronue admitted, leaning forward and grabbing his newly filled bowl off of the table. He moved to strike his match.. but offered the bowl to Kurama. He'd earned it.

"Do you know how to use one of these?" he asked, eyebrow arched. Kurama chuckled, taking the match and holding the carb closed. He struck the match and lit the contents, inhaling deeply. Kuronue grinned. That fox sure as shit knew what he was doing. Kurama handed the pipe back to its owner, who took a hit before setting it down. Kuronue felt Kurama's spiritual energy relax.

"What made you choose to become a bandit?" Damn, Kurama just had to ask the hard-hitting questions, didn't he? Kuronue chuckled, tossing his hair out of his eyes.

"It's not a choice for most of us. I was stealing to survive. Food, mostly. Clothes. Some money. Drugs. Y'know. Basics." He stretched out. "One day, Yuudai caught me takin' money from him. I didn't know who he was. But he said he'd spare my life if I worked for him. Rest is hist'ry." He chuckled at himself, wiggling his fingers in the air.

"What about you?"

Kurama said nothing. He leaned forward, picking up the bowl, finding a new match, and taking another hit. He was stalling.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" he finally asked, turning toward Kuronue and tracing lines along his chest with his index finger. He felt Kuronue's breath hitch.

"What, the weed? Or the fact that you're touching me?"

Kurama smirked, reaching up and stroking a strand of hair out of Kuronue's eyes. He tucked it behind a pointed ear before closing his eyes and sitting back against the cushions.

"The thrill of having something you shouldn't. The knowledge that you afforded your fortune with wits, not cash." His arms settled above his head, sprawled wantonly over the back of the couch. His head lolled toward Kuronue, eyes glazed over and lips parted.

Kuronue couldn't help himself.

He smoothed his hand over the top of Kurama's head. Soft ears twitched as they were touched, and those beautiful golden eyes closed in appreciation. It was surely the drugs making the once aloof silver fox so agreeable, but that didn't mean that Kuronue was complaining. A soft, almost erotic sigh of contentment left Kurama's lips, and Kuronue had to fight himself to stay calm. He let his fingers roam along the kit's lips, and he'd be damned if that fox didn't pull his index finger into his mouth.

He had to wonder what it would be like to have that beautiful creature as his, if only for the night. He wanted to hear his noises, watch him writhe, feel him clench around him.. no. He had to shoo the thoughts from his mind. But that was difficult, as his free hand found its way to the sweet curve of Kurama's waist, and that ethereal beauty climbed into his lap.

But, once again, Yuudai caught him with his hands on something that didn't belong to him.

The pack leader said nothing. He merely whistled once, nodding his head in the direction of the door. Kuronue couldn't put a label on his expression, which in itself was not a good sign. He dropped his hands as Kurama dismounted and tried to compose himself.

Kuronue cursed as soon as Yuudai and Kurama were out of earshot. Oh, well. The sun would be rising soon. Maybe Yuudai would let his punishment come in the next afternoon?

* * *

As far as any other demon was concerned, they'd say that Kuronue had escaped any punishment at all. He had his rank. He hadn't been beaten. He'd even be expected to lead the next heist.. with Kurama at his side.

Yuudai was unusually smart, and especially cruel. He had seen that Kuronue was interested in his little jewel. Taking him away would be far too kind, and make it much easier for Kuronue to forget about that silken hair, or that sinful smoulder in the fox's eyes.

No, he'd have to see it every day, knowing that he couldn't afford even an innocent touch. it would be murder.

He awoke one morning to the sight of a little box tied with ribbon sitting on the table in his bedroom, right next to his bowl. Alongside of it was a new bag of weed, and a note.

'I'm sorry that our encounter was cut short. Seems like someone needs a pick-me-up.'

Kuronue scooped up the package and untied the ribbon. Inside was a little red pendant strung on a chain. It looked to be of fairly decent value- but he wasn't the type to pawn a present. It slipped easily over his head, and glowed with the strength of his spiritual energy.

Well.. he'd have to see if there was a way to sneak a cookie out of the jar without daddy knowing.


	3. Tear You Apart

Author's Note: Looks like things are starting to pick up!

This chapter is **NSFW**.

* * *

Yuudai hadn't needed to scold Kuronue for touching his property. He knew how to get the message across. The next day, Kurama had emerged from Yuudai's room covered in bites and bruises, including a black eye. Kuronue had spent nights in Yuudai's bed, and while the bossman was by no means a gentle lover, Kuronue hadn't thought he'd beat the shit out of such a porcelain doll.

"You're strong enough to defend yourself. Why don't you?" Kuronue asked, looking on as Kurama dabbed blood from his re-opened split lip.

The fox turned toward him slowly, a sadistic smile falling into place, blood dripping down his chin. "The lion only obeys the ringmaster when he's fed."

Over the next half-year, Kurama had become one of his constant companions, and quite the competent thief. He had a sharp wit, that fox, and had caught on far more quickly than any new recruit that Kuronue had seen. It would be damn intimidating, if he wasn't so goddamn sexy.

See, if Kurama had been totally inept, keeping his hands off would be easy. Incompetence wasn't sexy on anybody, despite Yomi's assertion to the contrary. But watching that delicate being pick locks, answer riddles.. it made him hard as a rock, to be brutally honest.

Kurama's quick adjustment into the band's lifestyle made it easy to forget that he was just a baby. Youth shone in smiling eyes, while luminescent locks of silver matted with drying blood. It was refreshing, yes, but it was also fucking depressing. What made it worse was the fact that Kurama had stated that organized crime was the easiest life he'd experienced yet. Though he was Yuudai's special pet, Kuronue knew him to eat the same scraps and drink the same cheap wine as everyone else. He wasn't exactly bathing in luxury.

What hell had that pretty fox been subjected to?

One thing did change, however. Kurama surrounded himself with his friends, hardly giving Kuronue even a glance during the numerous parties that had transpired. No longer did they share wine or smoke together. It had only happened once. Twice, if he was being technical. Really, Kuronue had no reason to complain. Still, he couldn't help but feel as if he was missing out, watching one of the girls braid Kurama's hair. Not that he wanted to braid his hair.. it was the principle of the point.

The parties began to bore him. Kuronue was a jealous creature, as thieves often were. He didn't like being constantly reminded of the things he couldn't have. So instead, he'd retire after a glass or two of wine with Satoshi. He'd flop down on his bed, pluck at the strings of his guitar, and piss his neighbors off well into the morning.

If he knew what fortune would come to him by playing with half-assed melodies, he would have started jamming out sooner.

He felt a familiar presence at his back, and stilled his fingers on the strings. He smirked to himself, not even bothering to turn.

"Hey, Kurama," he greeted informally, not even bothering to look up as the fox settled down beside him on the bed. Kuronue had to suppress a shudder as he felt a pair of long arms wrap around his chest, and hot breath blow past his ear.

"I know this song," he purred, toying with Kuronue's hair. The bat turned, hoping to catch a whiff of whatever had Kurama feeling so good, but smelled only that night's meal.

"Something's got you in a good mood," Kuronue observed, setting the guitar down on the floor by the mattress. "What, not spending the night on Yuudai's dick?"

Kurama's ears flattened at the teasing. "He's asleep, thankfully. Even if he happened to be awake, sex would not be my idea of a good night."

Kuronue turned to look at him. "Is Yuudai really that bad? I mean, he's no tiger in the sack, I know that, but can't you at least pretend the sex is good?"

Kurama's eyes rolled, and he flopped down beside his mentor, hair fanning out on the bed beside the bat's leg. "He's asleep," he reiterated. " Besides, having the words 'sex' and 'good' in the same sentence doesn't make sense. This is a blessing," he groaned, throwing his arm dramatically over his eyes.

Wait. What?

Kuronue looked down at the young fox sprawled out beside him, and dropped a hand on his belly.

"What do you mean, 'sex isn't good?'" he asked incredulously, moving his hand to play with a lock of impossibly silky silver hair.

"I mean that I take no pleasure in being held up against a wall and being violated," he drawled, though there was some venom in his voice. Kuronue rolled so that he was straddling him, and lowered his face to Kurama's.

"You really mean to tell me that you've _never_ had good sex?" The disbelief was palpable. He'd have to take a moment to process that. Kurama was sex incarnate, and there he was, not even one good sexual experience to boast.

"We can fix that," Kuronue suggested casually. The fox lifted his head just enough to nip at the bat's jawline.

"You're saying that you think you can succeed where dozens of other men have failed? Perhaps I'm just high maintenance?" he purred, sitting up and forcing Kuronue back a few inches.

Kuronue just smirked. "Baby, one kiss and you'll be hooked for life. Guarantee." He stroked some hair out of those sharp golden eyes, and leaned in to press their lips together. He felt Kurama's breath hesitate and had to celebrate by sliding his tongue across his partner's closed teeth. Without any reluctance, they parted, and Kurama lowered himself to the bed while Kuronue's soft, teasing kiss turned hungry.

For years, Kurama had been treated like an object. He was property. His clothing was torn off against his will, and not an ounce of effort was put into making him feel good. At best, his owners didn't care about his pleasure. At worst, they prized his cries and screams of pain.

And then came Kuronue. His lips were soft on his throat, soon joined by gentle nips that made him gasp. Those seasoned hands undressed him like he was an expensive gift, and his touches sent electricity up his spine. No, this man drank him in like the champagne he was, and not the bathtub moonshine that most men had tried to claim that he was.

And he loved it.

"What, rendered speechless?" Kuronue asked with a grin, teasing Kurama's navel with his tongue. He was rewarded with a gasp and a hand tight in his hair.

"Shut up." The glare Kurama gave would have been a lot more intimidating if it hadn't been accompanied by that cute blush and ragged breath. Kuronue chuckled, sliding up Kurama's body and settling happily between his parted legs. Very gently, experimentally, he thrust his hips into his prone partner's, and smirked at the breathless whimper he was given in return. By the look of it, Kurama had more than his fill of teasing.

Kuronue stripped himself quickly, unable to keep his eyes off of the beautiful creature on the bed below him. He maneuvered to the dresser, retrieving a small bottle of oil. He pried the cork off and sniffed it. Good- it hadn't spoiled. He placed it on the floor by the mattress, settling down beside Kurama, hand on his bedmate's hip.

"Alright, fox. Tail up," he commanded. Kurama rolled onto his stomach, but wagged his tail lazily across his thighs. Patience sapped, Kuronue grabbed the base of his partner's tail, hoisting him up until he supported himself on his hands and knees. Kurama responded to the abuse with a cry, though there was little pain in his voice. Without having to be urged, he raised his tail along with his backside, wiggling impatiently while Kuronue dipped his fingers into the oil.

"What are you doing?" Kurama asked, glancing back at his partner.

"Stuff," Kuronue answered innocently. He slid his finger along Kurama's entrance a few times, before exhaling and pressing it inside.

Kurama's gaze remained on Kuronue's hand as he began to thrust his finger in and out, hooking it inside. What the fuck was he even doing? Whatever the reasoning, Kurama wasn't going to fight it. It felt damn good. And, for even just one night, he was going to allow himself to indulge.

The pleasure intensified with the addition of a second finger. Kurama felt himself sink into the mattress, hips held up by Kuronue's supportive grasp. His tail was shaking, and his ears were flat against his head.

"_Fuck_," he purred, low and long, claws digging into Kuronue's dark sheets.

"Yeah?" came the response, along with a devastating twist of the fingers. Kurama screamed as all of his nerves seem to fire off at once, and his upper body fell against the bed. "Fine, fine. Give me a minute, baby."

Kuronue allowed Kurama a chance to breathe, face buried in the pillow, while he lubed up and positioned himself. He slid in slowly, ears trained to detect any kind of pain response. And just because Kurama was ready, sure as shit didn't mean that Kuronue was. He'd always heard that foxes were devils in bed, but this one.. he'd never get a fuck on the same level.

The fox's soft whimpers and cries of pleasure were muffled by the pillow he bit into. Unacceptable. Sharp claws grabbed a fistful of silver hair, letting it drape over his knuckles as he pulled his partner's head up.

"Scream for me," he commanded huskily, nipping a tender ear. Kurama responded with a keening wail that would make a seasoned whore blush, and bucked his hips back with every one of Kuronue's merciless inward thrusts.

It wasn't a marathon for either one of them. Kuronue, wound tight from the pleasure in Kurama's voice and spiritual energy, spent himself with little warning inside of the little fox he'd claimed for the night. He pulled out after taking a moment to collect himself, threw Kurama onto his back, and took him into his mouth. Honestly, the stimulation was only a formality, with the spirit fox crying out with his climax after a few short seconds.

Kuronue wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist, and fell boneless beside of his absolutely satisfied partner. He had the clarity of mind to stroke sweat-dampened hair out of Kurama's eyes as the freshly-fucked fox climbed up to rest his head against his chest before blacking out, wings draping lazily over their bodies.

* * *

Kuronue didn't sleep that morning. Not that he didn't want to- he was exhausted. But Kurama wasn't. He'd be granted an hour or two of sleep, only to be woken by gentle licks, kisses, and bites up his throat. It would be easy enough to kick the insatiable fox out of his bed, but he happened to like the attention. He knew that Kurama would be sore the next day. Hell, they both would. But it was totally worth it, seeing the once sex-sour bandit crawl into his lap and begged to be fucked by_ him_ and_ him alone_.

He had been asleep when Kurama limped off to, presumably, bathe and eat. Though the lack of a warm body beside him was annoying, the cigarette tucked carefully behind his ear more than made up for it. The thought of remaining in bed for the rest of the day was tempting, considering how little his fox had allowed him to sleep, but the first drag of that damned cigarette had him too perky to think about going back to sleep.

Kuronue sat up against the wall, pillows behind his back, eyes closed as he enjoyed Kurama's most recent gift. It was a damn shame that Yuudai didn't let jewels out of his grasp once they were in his hand. Kuronue wasn't the boyfriend type, only because people sucked. But that fox.. he was different, wasn't he? No one had given him that much shit in years, and he loved it.

The sun was setting, and he could feel the compound's energy sizzle. Even when Kuronue didn't have somewhere to be, he liked looking around, watching the various teams and task forces prepare for their missions. He remembered when he used to get a thrill from it, before the passion became a chore. It was just him and his scythes, no one to babysit, and no one to hold him back.

"Oi, Yuudai," he called before thrusting open the boss' door, not caring if he was given permission or not.

The candlelight was still bright in the bedroom. The energy was low- not unusual, as Yuudai tended to mask himself before he left, to avoid attracting attention.

What was unusual, however, was the pool of still-hot blood he stepped in, as well as the pale hand clutching a handful of severed silver hair.


End file.
